


I'll Never Give Up You

by seeingvoices



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angus and Julia Stone - The Devil's Tears, Canon Compliant, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Not Beta Read, One Shot, POV Severus Snape, Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Severus Snape Needs a Hug, Songfic, severus snape's involvement during the first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24470671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingvoices/pseuds/seeingvoices
Summary: Severus Snape’s thoughts during his involvement with the Dark Lord during the First Wizarding War.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Severus Snape
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	I'll Never Give Up You

**Author's Note:**

> i've always loved how complex and relevant severus's back story is, so i wanted to expound on it with my version of what i thought may have happened. i hope i was able to give his character justice with this work!
> 
> also the song (angus & julia stone - the devil's tears) just really, REALLY fit sev's life so much it just really inspired me to make this so i thought to throw the lyrics in too
> 
> some lines from the harry potter and the deathly hallows book and movies have been adapted into this work to make it as realistic and canon-compliant as possible
> 
> i claim no copyright claims over the song or the harry potter books and movies

**_HE SAID “I AM THE DEVIL, BOY;_ **

Severus walked through the enormous silver gates, its grandiose not even registering in his mind anymore. His left forearm was throbbing in anticipation. It had just burned with extreme pain, pain so unbearable that he almost slipped into the brink of unconsciousness. Nevertheless, he mustered enough the remaining senses he had in his system and Apparated to Malfoy Manor, where he usually summoned those who he had branded under his name. Not that he was surprised, really; Malfoy Manor had been passed on from centuries-old of pureblood line, one generation to the next. There was also the added fact that multiple dark, pureblood relics were stored in the mansion. It only made sense that the Dark Lord preferred to take residence here than anywhere else. He almost snorted at his imagination of seeing the Dark Lord in his bereft home in Spinner’s End.

He walked up the gloomy, stone steps, fearing the Dark Lord’s wrath. Few things frightened him, and this was one of them. What had elicited such anger from him again? Had another raid gone amiss? It did not matter that the Dark Lord’s anger was not directed at him. Anyone who crossed his path in the wrong way was subject to punishments that made the _Avada Kedavra_ seem like bliss (at least it would be a painless death). Not attending the meeting, however, was much worse of an idea. That would mean cowardice and betrayal, and the Dark Lord was very well-known for being intolerable of such issues and even being creative with the spells he cast upon the unfortunate sufferer. Still, either way was a hell situation, and there was absolutely no way out.

He entered the Malfoy dining room. Its size was of worthy competition compared to the Great Hall, and the latter could support about a thousand students all at once. It was a relief to see that there were still unoccupied seats, meaning he was not the latest to arrive. He knew the dire consequences of being late, and, although he had never been that late himself, he had no desire to experience the receiving end of the Dark Lord’s wand.

Speaking of which, there he was, in all his glory (Severus had no idea if he meant that sarcastically or not), seated at the center of the table. He presumes that the given seat was actually Lucius Malfoy’s on normal days, but who was he to go against the order of the greatest Dark wizard of their age? Bellatrix Lestrange sat beside him, fawning over the quite charming man, who was supposedly in his late fifties, but did not look the part. Rudolphus Lestrange noticed this, but wisely chose to ignore it. Severus knew for a fact that the couple only married for the sake of blood status and monetary purposes, just as most purebloods in this room.

He was suddenly brought out of his mindless musings when the ragged figure of Igor Karkaroff made known of his presence, clothes disheveled and wrinkled and hair springing in all directions, looking disoriented. There was only one seat remaining, which meant that—

“Igor, you are fashionably late, aren’t you?” Before Karkaroff could even open his mouth to utter an senseless alibi, he fell down on the floor, screaming for his dear life (which wasn’t much, really), as if his lungs were on fire. After a few seconds, the screaming stopped (thankfully. Severus didn’t think his eardrums could take much more noise), only to be replaced by soft whimpers of pain from the recently-tortured man and a soft cackle emitted from the mad witch beside the Dark Lord. _Pathetic_ , Severus thought. He watched as the man attempted to regain his composure. Upon standing up, he bowed his head lowly, his head almost reaching his knees.

“I apologize for my tardiness, my Lord. Forgive me,” came the pained whisper. The Dark Lord ignored him, and Karkaroff took his place at the only available seat, his fingers still trembling.

“There is much to discuss tonight,” he started, his voice resonating in the dead silence of the room. “One of which is the matter of Dumbledore calling _me_ the instigator of ‘heinous’ activities happening all around due to a ridiculous notion of purebloods being far more superior than any other blood status. He believes that all witches and wizards from any background are equal!” He let out a horrid laugh, followed by a few fake ones to compensate for their Master’s dry humor. “Who’s the ridiculous one, really? Tell me, am I wrong to emphasize the importance of blood purity?”

“No, my Lord,” came the monotone reply in chorus, Severus being one of them. Yet, his mouth felt dry, as if he hadn’t drank water for a week.

“Albus Dumbledore is a senile, old coot who has lost all forms of common sense, and you, my loyal followers, will personally witness the demise of the old man.”

Severus, if he was being completely honest with himself, was utterly confused on how to feel about such a proud pronouncement from their Master. He had, in a way, actually admired Dumbledore since his schoolboy days –not that he was going to let anyone in this room know about that–. Although Potter and his despicable gang of lackeys had always gotten off lightly when it comes to their life-threatening pranks, the Headmaster never scorned or ridiculed him and even treated him as fairly as possible. Of course, he was no saint, and he did still harbour a slight resentment against the man for not sending Black to Azkaban or even expel him for sheer recklessness and stupidity that could have cost another student’s life (namely him, their favourite target) and for persuading him to keep confidential the fact that one of them was a bloody werewolf, who also happened to be one of the causes of his near-death experience back in Sixth Year.

Nonetheless, even though Dumbledore was all about benevolence and fairness, he knew that the old man would exert very powerful when he deems it necessary. There also lies the rumor that the Dark Lord only feared one wizard in the world’s entirety, and that wizard was Dumbledore. Severus resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

**_COME WITH ME, AND WE'LL MAKE MANY STORMS.”_ **

Severus had just arrived home (Could he even call it that?) from another raid. He had gone to the multiple raids the Death Eaters staged, whether in the wizarding community or the Muggle world. He followed the older and more prestigious members –the Inner Circle, as many called it– to such trips, watching and observing the chaos unravel. He had never been one who enjoys violence; yes, he had a violent streak when his temper was tested, but never when unprovoked. To see such destruction in what was supposed to be a peaceful night– well, he keeps to the background, to say the least. He watched as the other Death Eaters cast multiple Unforgivables before casting the _Morsmordre_ spell, then Apparating away to safety.

He tried to squelch the churning feeling in his stomach. He signed up for this. He wanted power and recognition for his talents, and the Dark Lord will give him just that, so long as he continues to do the tasks given to him. He wanted to perform vengeance on the people who held misgivings against his person. Yet, as he continued upon such raids, he felt worse and worse. Other nights he had to suppress the disgust from showing on his face from his peers. He was not one with a weak gut and could tolerate gore more than most, yet he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach almost every night in his house, away from the judging eyes of others. He also was never one to have a strong conscience; why was it starting up now then?

No matter how wretched he felt, not that he would ever admit it, he went on with such raids, following the influences Lily had warned him about. _Lily_. No, he would not think upon her. She had chosen her path, and he had chosen his. They were not meant to be, he was certain now. They had different interests, different tastes, and most especially, different goals. She would go on defying the Dark Lord, while he would go on defending him and serving for his cause.

He should be thankful for being allowed in the Death Eater ranks. He was a half-blood, after all, and the Dark Lord detested all those of Muggle descendancy. Severus did not really care much about Muggles. He didn’t hate them, but he hadn’t had the best upbringing from them either. Living in the poor, suburban neighborhood of Spinner’s End had brought him taunts and jeers of the upper-class citizens. Being raised by a money-leeching drunk had not helped either. However, he cannot deny the fact that not all Muggles were horrible, such that not all wizards were.

He was a competent brewer, that he knew of. He did, after all, become the youngest Potions Master in the whole of Europe. That was not from sheer, dumb luck either. It was a skill he had honed since he first knew of his magic, discreetly guided by his mother when he was a child, and further studied by himself. He knew that was what had cemented his position as a Death Eater. There were not many Potions Master around, certainly not those as good as he. The fact that he had willingly joined the Dark Lord was not what one would have expected him to do with his skills. He felt confident that the Dark Lord would reward him in time for his faithful service, and he would be rewarded generously.

At least, that was what he had first thought. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

**_HE OFFERED ME THE UNIVERSE,_ **

Sitting in the comfort –or should he say, discomfort– of the broken recliner in Spinner’s End and drinking a cheap bottle of Muggle alcohol, he remembered the first time he was offered the opportunity to join the Dark Lord’s ranks. He honestly found the name ridiculous. _Death Eaters_? How could one possibly consume death? Even a blatant fool would find that title quite pretentious. However, as bad as it initially sounded, it had been all about glory and power. Being a half-blood in Slytherin, he had felt the need to prove himself worthy of the House that was so commonly associated with aristocratic purebloods. Being able to join the _Death Eaters_ would be a surmountable feat, no doubt.

He was usually surrounded by the common, obnoxious members of their House, but he did not complain. He was never one to initiate acquaintanceship with others, especially not with such idiots, and the one leverage it had was that it gave him temporary protection from the irritating gang of Potter to ambush him. He was a competent duelist, but to be attacked four-against-one (rather, three-against-one, as the werewolf, the noblest of them all, ironically, would usually try to stop such pranks) as his back was turned was… for the lack of a better word, unfair. Being around others protected him from such ambush sometimes, although not enough.

Undeniably, the longer he stayed at Hogwarts, the more his interest in the Dark Arts piqued. To know of such great power made him feel powerful himself, like for once he was no longer the scraggy, helpless boy in secondhand rags. He had created spells of his own, ones that may be considered dark, but for him, they were a symbol of his hard-earned knowledge and talent. In the Dark Arts, he found the pleasure of power coursing through him, and he used this to the best of his advantage. With it, he can prove himself worthy to not only his Housemates or the Dark Lord, but also himself.

When slick-talking Lucius Malfoy, a snobby higher year in the same House as he, offered them the opportunity to join the Dark Lord, he considered it greatly. He _could_ do with the recognition of his talents and the protection of his peers. Of course, past circumstances held him back for quite a while. He had shoved it in the back of his mind until… until Lily no longer considered him a friend. That, for him, was the breaking point. The one good thing in this damn world already left him, and he could not even find it in himself to be angry with her. He no longer had anything to lose then, so why bother hesitating?

Being inducted that day in front of the Dark Lord was probably the most exhilarating day of his life. He was taken, accepted, and… he was enough. He was branded with a tattoo on his left forearm, one with a snake and a skull intercepting together. It was horrid, really, but he quickly masked such thoughts and accepted it. It was a small price to pay to be able to join the ranks of one of the greatest wizards of the modern generation. He could learn to love it; after all, it was a symbol of power and greatness, and it could instill fear into the hearts of many.

On the same day, the Dark Lord had talked about the power and the recognition his followers would receive once his cause was to succeed. It was all ever Severus wanted. He didn’t care much about blood purity or politics, to hell they be damned. If it was what was required of him, then he would do so to achieve his goals. He carried a front to show to the rest of the world, but his personal beliefs were never there. The promise of esteem was the most Severus craved for, and if the Dark Lord could provide him with such, then so be it.

It was not lost to him that they would do heinous acts from then on, but he should not be too affected, not that he knew of. And now, recalling the loud, frightened screams of those they had just attacked, he had to hide his disgust and shame. He thought he was desensitized to the world, considering the harsh upbringing he had had. If he were to be king of something, it would be the king of pissed childhoods, following that would be potions. He laughed and hiccupped at the same time. He was drunk, the bottle of alcohol almost empty. He would regret this tomorrow, but not now. Now was the time to forget. He closed his eyes, accepting his resigned fate, and awaited the next day, when he would sport a pounding headache and an upset stomach.

**_BUT INSIDE MY HEART WAS A PICTURE OF A GIRL._ **

_Severus watched as the redheaded girl pushed the swing she was on to the limit, which turned a complete circle before landing gracefully. He allowed a smile to show on his face. Lily Evans was an incredibly happy-go-lucky person to be with, and her cheer was definitely contagious. She laughed as she landed, and he ran towards her._

_“Are you done throwing yourself off of swings?” He teased._

_“Don’t act like you don’t think it’s fun!” She replied, still laughing._

_“Hmm. It may have crossed my mind just once or twice.”_

_“Come on, Sev! Race you to the park bench!”_

_He watched as she ran, her long, wavy hair bouncing behind her. He smiled again before running after her, careful not to trip over his long slacks and oversized boots. Even when Lily had a head start, he reached the bench first. He sat on one end and smirked._

_“I win, Lily.”_

_“No fair!”_

_“How was that not fair? You even had a head start!”_

_“You have longer legs!” She pouted, plopping to the empty space beside him. They dissolved into laughter a few seconds later. “Will you come with us tomorrow when we go to Diagon Alley to get supplies?” She asked._

_“Yes. Mum gave me permission and even already gave me enough galleons to buy everything I need.” It wasn’t a lie. He had enough to buy what he needed brand new, but some other things would be secondhand, stuff his mother already had. Not that he was surprised, but he didn’t complain. What good would it do? “I also imagine you would need assistance, after all. It’d your first time to step into a wizarding community, along with your mum. Mum said I needed to be the one guiding you, as I’m the one with the knowledge about the magical world.”_

_“I’m so excited! Can you imagine? In a few weeks, we’ll be off in a magical castle learning more of our magic. Who knows what’s in store for us? It’s magic, after all.”_

_“I’m excited, too, actually. Can’t wait to get our own wands. Mum told me Ollivander, the guy who sells the wands, is a bit kooky. Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”_

_“There’s so much to learn about magic, Sev. I want to learn all of it! God, I sound like a nerd.” She laughed._

_“Aren’t you?”_

_“Look who’s talking, Mr. I-Can-Read-Two-Books-In-One-Day.”_

_“They’re short books.” He shrugged._

_They continued talking about the possibility of magic and whatever they can do with it until they saw other children approaching the playground. At this, they stopped talking about their magical capabilities and started to leave, talking about something mundane such as Muggle rugby and football. Then, Lily grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards her house, despite his many protests. She was having none of it, as she told him that her mother was baking brownies, and she wanted to share them with him._

**_SOME CALL LOVE A CURSE,_ **  
**_SOME CALL LOVE A THIEF,_ **

_There were moments when Severus was not certain whether he was merely happy with Lily’s friendship, or if he was infatuated. Maybe he was just extremely thankful that finally, one kid in the neighborhood befriended him. He didn’t even care that her sister was such a snob who would pick on him a lot. What mattered was that Lily didn’t. Maybe, at one point of his life, he had done something right, and so he was gifted with her friendship. Was that it? Was he merely happy with their friendship?_

_Being around Lily made him accepted, something he rarely felt and truly needed. His mother was decent, yes, but she can only do so much. His father… well, he might have been better off without a father. He seriously doubted that he deserved to be bruised black and blue almost everyday for merely standing in his way, which happens a lot, as their house was small. He never felt safe there. He always anticipated his father’s hard shove, and the fall on the poorly cemented floor afterwards. His mother would pick him up from the ground, dust off his pants, and just pat his head, knowing she could do nothing, lest they both be damned._

_He wore clothes that would cover his body as much as possible. He didn’t want anyone to see the bruises he receives from his drunkard father, whether intentional or accidental. Lily once asked him why he always wore a coat over his shirt when it’s a hot summer’s day out, and he was evidently sweating. “Personal preference,” he had answered. It was not until a few months later she found out the truth. Since then, she made it her personal mission to check up on him, playing his personal nurse. She would tell him to roll up his sleeves or lift his pants’ legs to search for new bruises, and she would bring ice packs from her house to aid him._

_She assured him that he didn’t deserve what he was going through and that she was glad to help him out. Severus always tried to decline her help, as he was embarrassed, not because she was a girl, but because he felt he was troubling her. Finally, one day, Lily put her foot down. With her fiery stubbornness, she insisted that she wanted to help and that he better suck it up because she was not stopping. Severus stared at her in stunned silence before merely shrugging in response. He never argued with her about that again. He hoped she never noticed the shallow pink shade that made its way on his pale cheeks._

**_BUT SHE'S MY HOME._ **

_With Lily, he felt that he could be himself. Although his words were sharp, she found the wittiness behind the sarcasm of his being. She was inquisitive, and he always enjoyed talking with her about absolutely anything, from Muggle sewing to extinct magical creatures. Lily was also observant, and she could immediately tell if something was amiss with him._

_Every time they met up in the playground between their houses, she would greet him with a smile, and he always find himself smiling back at her, no matter how bad his day had been. Although wise beyond his years, having seen and experienced many brutalities and hardships at home, he longed to be a normal kid, worrying over something as trivial as homework and sick pets, not over whether he was going to get beaten up by his own father or if he would have enough money to buy himself food that day. Lily… Lily gave him that, and she didn’t even know it._

_Sometimes when they met, Lily’s sister, Petunia, would look at him up and down before commenting degradingly of his clothes. He doubted she actually meant her words to degrade him. He knew the Evanses would not tolerate such behavior. She merely lacked tact. In the end, he couldn’t be offended because it was true. His clothes were obviously two sizes bigger than his actual body, and they were usually muddy or dusty. Lily chided his sister for her inconsiderate comments, saying such things don’t matter, before pulling him away from her sister. Lily knew more than she made herself look, but he didn’t comment on that._

_She accepted him for who he was, regardless of his upbringing or his looks. He remembered the day he told her she was a witch. She initially thought he was insulting her, calling her wicked, and Petunia came to her sister’s defense right away. He defended himself by saying he meant it literally, as she had abilities Muggles did not. Since then, they were inseparable. She was bubbly, and he was snarky (for a child), but somehow they melded together and understood each other far more than others could._

_Lily made him feel safe. Lily made him feel wanted._

_Lily was home._

**_AND SHE'S AS MUCH A PART OF THIS BROKEN HEART_ **  
**_BUT SEE, BROKEN BONES ALWAYS SEEM TO MEND._ **

Severus woke up with a start, his head throbbing in volumes. What the hell? Why was he becoming maudlin? He had no time for petty emotions such as those. He tried to ignore the pain in his head, the one that was not physical, but emotional. It was the alcohol, yes. That’s probably it. He glared accusingly at the more-than-half empty bottle of vodka on the table before sighing resignedly. It has been a long time since he had indulged, much more with Muggle alcohol. His usual choice of drink was usually Ogden’s Old Frewhisky, which always put him to sleep within a half hour. Why he chose to suffer tonight, he may never know.

There was another meeting tonight, that he knew. He did not need to feel the burn on his left forearm to know that. The Dark Lord had been restless for days, always extensively irked over something. He sent them on raids not only to torment the innocent but also to locate something for him. He was not let in on the details, as he was considered a rookie despite his caliber in his craft. The details were more or less revealed to those of higher ranks, such as Lucius Malfoy or the Lestranges.

If only there were something he could offer to promote his rank. He so longed to be finally recognized by the greatest Dark Lord of their generation. He was imaginative in his own ways, but he found himself restraining such dark thoughts and rethinking them. Why, he could not tell. Why was he hesitating to share his brilliant ideas? He, too, had the capability of performing curses and hexes against the innocents. He even made spells of his own! He built up courage before every meeting and braced himself for the acts he would do, yet when the time comes, his wand arm always felt heavy, as if it weighed a million tons.

He had contributed to the raids, don’t get him wrong. With so much thirst to prove himself, it was only natural he would do what was asked of him. When he does take part in the raids, cursing Muggles and even casting the Unforgivables on them. As his peers laughed at the destruction they caused, he could only find himself forcing to smile, his throat constricting on him every second. He waved such occurrences as the fact that he was weak, and he only needed more exposure in the Dark Arts. Everything he learned, he just learned from books, after all. To be able to apply it in actuality, it was totally different from what he expected. He just needed more exposure, that’s all.

He quickly removed his Death Eater robes and changed into a more comfortable set of clothes. He ignored the sharp pains that made their way through every muscle in his body. Even the slightest movement could cause a discomfort. He bit back a wince. He had planned on brewing more potions but decided against it. It was dangerous to do with the limited actions and his fluttering concentration. He knew his limits, even if he wouldn’t admit it to others.

He sat back down on his recliner, this time nursing his headache. He swallowed a few pills of aspirin along with a glass of water. He had once again woken up in the late afternoon, yet he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything. His stomach was still churning, either from the alcohol or his conscience. Maybe both.

It wasn’t his first time to come home from an unsuccessful raid. Yes, they had wreaked havoc in whatever neighborhood they had gone to (he had not even bothered to know where), and he had thought they had done well –“well” being a relatively subjective term–. Upon seeing Malfoy’s crestfallen face at the end, however, he knew he had to be prepared. Right away, he braced himself for the worst of the night to come while his peers continue to laugh and congratulate one another on what they had done. Fools. Ignorance was indeed bliss.

The Cruciatus Curse could possibly be the Dark Lord’s favorite spell, if not the Killing Curse. He had seen firsthand how much he used both curses as if he were merely casting a _Lumos_ in a dark room. Although terrifying, it was also a display of how much power he had. Casting Unforgivables as if they were mere first year spells was his way of showing his followers that he controlled them, and he would not hesitate to use such curses on them.

Such was the case. Upon arriving back on Malfoy Manor, they hastily stepped into the room where their Master awaited. Malfoy quickly reported on what they had done and, Severus noted, crooned and gleamed and flattered the Dark Lord’s name in between. Whether it was a way to alleviate the Dark Lord’s rising anger or to save his own arse, it did not work. In the end, they had all been in the receiving end of the Dark Lord’s _Crucio_.

It was not new to him. It had been years since he had first joined the Death Eaters, and time after time, they all were subjected under the Cruciatus Curse, even for the pettiest of reasons. The first time he had been _Crucio_ ’d, he thought he would never be able to stand properly again. He remembered being unable to lift himself from the stone-cold floor where he collapsed, along with the other newbies. Still, he was alive, so he did his best to pick himself up, ignoring the severe trembling his body was suffering. He clenched and unclenched his hands and discovered his fingers were uncontrollably shaking. He took a deep breath and groaned. A broken rib too. He wasn’t worried about that, actually. It was nothing a Skele-Gro potion and a Murtlap Essence would not heal.

A sharp pang resounded in his heart, but that, he knew, he could not stop.

**_I'LL TASTE THE DEVIL'S TEARS,  
DRINK FROM HIS SOUL,_ **

Unusually enough, tonight, he was tasked to merely follow Albus Dumbledore and see if he had more plans to counter their attacks. He was leading an autonomous and secret group, entirely independent from the Ministry, called the Order of the Phoenix. The name screamed “Yes, we are a group of Light wizards composed of mostly rash Gryffindors and some from the other houses”, but who was he to judge when his own group was called Death Eaters?

When the time came, he Apparated to Hogsmeade and waited, as McNair had told him Dumbledore would be there. With few appearance charms and some clothes he was able to acquire a few days before, he slipped into the village, looking nothing like himself. His hair was now similar to that of a member in the Muggle band The Beatles, its color resembling mud. His eyes were charmed to be of the cliché Prince-Charming shade of blue, and he wore spectacles along with them. He wore a simple tweed suit while carrying a briefcase, looking like an ordinary Ministry worker.

Upon arriving to the gates near the Shrieking Shack, he Disillusioned himself quickly. He watched as every person came and went, going on with their boring, everyday routine. People passing by greeted one another with simple pleasantries that he was sure none of them were actually meant and were just done for the sake of looking polite. He shook his head. He must not let the annoying habits of the public distract him from his duty. He was to watch out for Dumbledore, after all.

No more than an hour later, just as the sun was setting, he spotted the Headmaster of Hogwarts, casually walking down the streets of Hogsmeade. Everyone who passed by greeted him, and he returned the favor. It was honestly difficult to miss the man; he had a very distinct beard, and his clothes were just a garish shade of orange and blue. He watched as the older man entered a rundown bar at the edge of the village. What could an esteemed headmaster be doing in such a place?

He looked around if anyone was looking, and when he saw no one, he removed the Disillusion Charm on him and slowly made his way towards the same bar. He looked at the crooked and dilapidated sign above the establishment: Hog’s Head. Even as a student who went on Hogsmeade trips, he never went this far for a drink. There was always The Three Broomsticks for that. Was the Headmaster merely visiting this place, or was there a bigger intention? Hesitantly, he opened the doors and looked around for an empty table and saw the old wizard heading for a private room. Well, this made matters much harder.

Dumbledore was seated with a strange lady. Her springy hair was everywhere, and she had enough baubles that would put any jewelry store to shame. A common stereotype with glasses was that they made someone look smarter; it was the opposite for this woman. She looked around nervously, as if she were a cornered rat. Dumbledore, on the other hand, despite his also strange outfit, seemed to uphold an authoritative aura. He held back a groan. What was he doing with his life? Why was he spying on the Headmaster of Hogwarts? The door to the room closed.

He quickly sat on a table beside the room, his head down in case he got caught. Even if he knew he casted the appearance altering charms perfectly, Albus Dumbledore could rip off the said spells within a second if he got suspicious. He ordered a bottle of firewhisky, but he was careful not to get drunk, as he needed to spy on the man. Getting drunk will be a reckless move, no matter how much he desired to just slip back into an alcohol-induced unconsciousness.

“Now, now, Sybil. Nothing to be nervous of.” Severus heard Dumbledore’s muffled voice say.

“The tea leaves I’ve read this morning, Headmaster, say otherwise. Not only that, but the constellation of Equuleus will show itself tonight. Oh, I can sense it now. Death will be entering that door soon, and someone will suffer a mighty downfall. We must reschedule our meeting.” She shivered.

“I assure you, Sybil, this is a safe establishment.” Dumbledore comforted once again. “So, it is the Divination post you are applying for?”

“Y- Yes.”

“Are you a Seer yourself?”

“Oh, yes. It is terrible. It is a great gift, of course, but I am forever cursed of seeing future events, such as deaths!”

“True seers are hard to come by, nowadays,” Dumbledore commented, speaking more to himself than to his acquaintance.

That was it? It was merely a job interview for a teaching position! There was nothing to listen on here. He quickly paid for his drink and stood up. As he was walking out, he heard the sound of glass breaking from within the room, and he looked back. He leaned against the door and heard an eerie voice speak:

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…."_

“Hey, you!” Someone bellowed, obscuring his hearing from the hypnotizing voice. He suddenly found himself face-to-face with an older man (who, funnily enough, looked almost exactly like Dumbledore). “You spyin’ on my clients, eh? Well, not on my watch!” A second later, he landed face first on the hard, cement ground, alone with his thoughts.

He sat up and continued staring at the door, in shock of what he had just heard. Was that an actual prophecy? Was that what a real prophecy sounded like? He was not one to believe in such flukes. For him, no one can actually see the future, and they were cryptic enough to make one go mad. He had never even taken Divination when he was still a student! It was a waste of time, or so he thought. Then, it clicked. The prophecy… it was about the Dark Lord. It talked of the Dark Lord’s defeat.

Yet, as absurd as it all was, it was valuable information. It involved the Dark Lord, and that must be enough. He was also the only one to have heard it, meaning he did not need to fear of someone else reporting it back to him. It was information only he was able to acquire, and that made him feel secure. This was it. This was what will cement his loyalty in the Dark Lord’s eyes. He had taken a great risk with spying on Dumbledore tonight, there was no doubt about it, and he was still able to learn of such a prophecy. He did not know if the Dark Lord believed in the powers-may-be of Divination, but it was something he must hear.

He tasted the metallic taste of blood on his lips, and he quickly swiped it away with his coat. He found that his also had a few scrapes on his cheek from where he landed. With a simple _Episkey_ spell, the cuts healed themselves, and he readied himself for another meeting with the Dark Lord. He absolutely cannot believe he was risking his whole life against either wizard. Then again, he has nothing to live for anyway. Not anymore. He shuddered. The firewhisky must finally be hitting him now.

It was finally dark out, as the sun had already set. He quickly stood up and brushed off the dust on his outfit before trudging in the street. He found an empty alleyway and removed his disguise before Apparating to Malfoy Manor, where his Master waited for his report.

**_BUT I'LL NEVER GIVE UP YOU._ **

Severus arrived just in time to see the Dark Lord hand Lucius a black journal which, strangely enough, resembled a Muggle notebook. He shook that from his thoughts. It was no business of his. The room was filled with Death Eaters, awaiting the next orders for them. He walked towards them, and the Malfoy patriarch quickly shoved the journal in one of the deep pockets of his robe. Severus bowed in the presence of the Dark Lord, as was custom when such meeting took place.

“My Lord,” he greeted, before standing upright once again.

“Severus, what news have you brought for me?”

“My Lord, I have heard something of utmost importance, and I believe it is imperative that you hear it… in private.”

“Is that so?” the Dark Lord asked, his curiosity showing. “Very well. The rest of you, leave us.” There was a quick shuffle of activity, and within a minute, the room was vacated, save for the two of them. “Now, what was it that you find so important that you deemed it not worthy to share with your fellow Death Eaters?”

“I have overheard a prophecy.”

“A prophecy?”

“Yes, my Lord. A prophecy that involved you.” At this, the Dark Lord’s eyes widened.

“Indeed? Relay it then.” And Severus did. He saw the Dark Lord’s features quickly contort in anger and temper, and he was glad that he was not on the end of that anger today. “And this is an actual prophecy? Not just random babbling from the streets?”

“I assure you, my Lord, that it is not. I heard it firsthand spoken by a Seer, and she spoke of it in front of Albus Dumbledore.”

“I see.” The Dark Lord looked away. “You have brought me valuable information, Severus. I plan to reward you greatly.”

“Thank you, my Lord. I am most humbled.” He sighed in relief. He had done his job well.

It was not weeks after he realized that what he thought would be his greatest achievement would turn out to be his greatest downfall. They were gathered in the dining room of Malfoy Manor again. The Dark Lord looked unusually gleeful tonight, and he wasn’t sure if he should feel happy himself or terrified for whatever reason that made the Dark Lord cheerful.

“Today, my faithful followers, I have gathered you today to inform you that I have chosen two specific families for you to target. No one can fail.” Severus watched the arising confusion of those beside him. Specific families? When had the Dark Lord cared whom they attacked? “It has come to my attention that they must be annihilated, regardless of cost. Namely, the Longbottoms and the Potters.”

Severus felt his heart stop and his mouth run dry. The world seemed to have shaken off balance, and his eyes could no longer focus. In fact, everything seemed blurry. He found that he had been holding his breath for over a minute now, as he stopped processing what was happening. He looked around and saw the others took this news as nonchalantly as possible, and he realized he was the only one personally affected in this whole ordeal. Just as his heart had initially stopped in shock, now he found it beating in the speed of miles per second, and if it were to beat any faster, he feared that he would implode.

The Potters? _Lily_?

“And it is all thanks to you, Severus, that I am able to destroy the biggest threats I have.” The Dark Lord’s eyes turned to him and he spoke jovially. “I promised you, my followers, that I will reward anyone who does his duty well. Speak, Severus, of what you desire, and I shall give it to you.”

“I… ” He cleared his throat. “If I may request, my Lord, that… ” He took a deep breath. “Lily… Lily Potter be spared.”

“That Mudblood from our year?” Evan Rosier sneered.

“Quiet, Rosier. I did not speak to you,” their Master quickly intoned. “Is this what you truly desire, Severus?

“Yes. Yes, it is.” He bowed.

“Then it shall be done. Pity. My boy, you could do so much better than filthy Mudbloods, but if you insist.”

“Thank you, my Lord. You are most gracious.” He bowed once again.

He had to save Lily.

**_HE SAID, “I AM THE DEVIL, BOY;_ **

It wasn’t enough. He begged the Dark Lord so much. He had lowered his pride, even to the point of being ridiculed by his peers, just to save Lily. But it wasn’t enough. He knew the Dark Lord, far more than anyone, really. The Dark Lord was a selfish being, and he would want his goals achieved through any means, and if Lily were to get in the way of his plans, he would not hesitate to off her on the spot. He hadn’t known that the prophecy would refer to Lily. No, he only told the Dark Lord because he wanted to rise higher in the ranks. If only he knew, he never would have told him. He would have kept that information to himself and risk the pain of the Cruciatus Curse once more for being a useless follower. If only he knew…

Damn it! What the _hell_ was he thinking? The prophecy spoke of a baby to be born in July, but how was he to know that Lily’s child was born in the same month? He could not have known, but he should have! He was so dumb, so careless. Now, on the line was the life of the only source of joy he ever had. He had tried to hate her before, yes, when she severed her ties with him. He felt lonely and betrayed. He should have been angry with her, but he could not bring himself to do so. How could he? He understood her reasons, and he was pretty fortunate to not have received the end of her shoe to his face. And now… now, he had doomed her.

James Potter, as arrogant and pompous as he may be, made Lily happy in a way that he could not do. That had fueled his anger towards the bastard, but he had let it be, just so that Lily was happy. He wasn’t dense; of course Lily would have never liked her back. He had long accepted that. The pain had just doubled— no, tripled when he found out it was Potter who had become her significant other. The betrayal flared in him, but he had accepted it. With that, he had joined the Death Eaters and attempted to move on with his life without her influence.

Maybe it wasn’t too late. He had to find a way to protect Lily. Maybe Potter, too. Oh, he didn’t know anymore. His head was swimming in the most absurd of thoughts. This was all his fault. She was right. He never should have joined the Death Eaters. If he had not, this whole thing would never have happened, and he would not be having this dilemma right now. Every Death Eater would now be on the look out for both the Longbottoms and the Potters, both undeniably strong Aurors of the Ministry. Surely, they could protect themselves, right? Lily was a strong witch, and she was gifted and talented beyond those in the same year as her. And, loathe he to admit it, Potter was also competent in dueling. The Death Eaters would find both of them to put up a difficult fight.

He had to warn them. He no longer cared if he looked desperate. He no longer cared if Potter would hex him on the spot or if the whole Wizarding world would spit on him for his mistakes. He just needed to warn her, warn them both if he must, of what the Dark Lord had planned. He could not bear the thought of Lily dying in the hands of the Dark Lord, with him as the cause. No, he would rather die before that happened.

**_COME WITH ME, AND WE'LL BREAK MANY LAWS.”_ **

Severus Apparated to Hogsmeade once again, this time in search for literally anyone who may have contact with the Potters. He had not even bothered to put up a disguise. He just needed to warn them. He had to tell Lily. He tried to recall all those who talked to Lily. He was certain some of them resided in Hogsmeade. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Albus Dumbledore walking back towards Hogwarts. Out of desperation, he followed, slowly, carefully, and inconspicuously. Just as they had reached the warded grounds of Hogwarts, Dumbledore turned around, and something told him he wasn’t as inconspicuous as he thought he was being.

“You have been following me for quite a while now, Severus Snape,” said Dumbledore, his voice devoid of the usual warmness it had when speaking with others.

“Yes, I— I need to talk to you. Please.”

“Very well. Do forgive me if I do not trust you enough,” the older man replied, his wand quickly slipping into his hand. “What message does Voldemort have for me?”

“No… No message. I am here on my own volition.”

“Oh? And what would a Death Eater want with me?”

“I know of the prophecy. I was the one who spied on you and overheard the prophecy.”

“Yes, I was informed there was someone who spied on my door that night.”

“It was me. God, it was me. I told the Dark Lord, and… please, Headmaster, he thinks it’s Lily Potter!”

“You have heard the prophecy yourself, Severus. It spoke of a child, not of a woman.”

“But he thinks it’s her son!”

“If she means so much to you, why not ask Voldemort to spare her himself?”

“I did. I have. But I know Lily, she would never step aside for him, even at the cost of her own life. Please.”

“You disgust me,” Albus Dumbledore retorted back, and he felt like a first year all over again. He held his head in shame. He was disgusted of himself, too.

“Please, Headmaster,” he begged, getting on his knees. “Hide her— hide them all. I beg you.”

“And what will you give me in exchange, Severus?” The older man challenged.

“In exchange? I— ” he took a deep breath. “Anything.”

“Anything? That’s a big word, Severus.”

“I mean it. I’d do anything you ask of me. Just… please, protect her. Protect them all, if you must. God…”

“Very well, Severus.”

**_HE OFFERED ME ETERNAL LIFE,_ **

What had he gotten himself into? Yes, he had been desperate enough to approach Dumbledore to ask for help. He even threw himself in the mercy of his old Headmaster. Even being in such a proximity with the old man was a threat to his life. If Dumbledore chose not to believe him, he would have been incinerated to ashes at any moment within seconds. Although, if that happened, he could say he died trying to save Lily, and that was more than enough. With the initial adrenaline and fear of doing such a reckless act (What is he, a Gryffindor?) ebbing away, he suddenly felt exhausted. All in all, he cannot find himself regretting that decision, but the outcome had been… unexpected.

He was good at what he did, and he prided himself in that. He was a good and dedicated follower of the Dark Lord (until recently, when he realized that the maniac was going after Lily), he had a Masters in Potions at such a young age, his dueling abilities surpassed almost all the Death Eaters, and he was a talented and cautious spy. When Dumbledore told him to be the eyes and ears of the Light, he had hesitated. Being a spy, he can certainly handle; but being a double spy? His head was whirring with possibilities.

Then, he realized. His loyalty was not with the Dark Lord, not was it with Dumbledore. No. It was with Lily. Even upon joining the Death Eaters, he thought he had done it to distance himself from her, as he felt it necessary. She was better off without him, and Potter could her whatever she needed and wanted. He clenched his fists in anger and self-pity. Whatever he did, he was not enough. And so, he did what he thought best, and accepted their never-to-be-restored friendship and tried to move on, moving towards the Dark and further from her.

Now, he to be a spy against the Death Eaters for Dumbledore. At least, this time around, he knew Dumbledore to be an honorable man, and he would keep his word. He was treading on a tightrope, in not so many words. Now that he had another master –for lack of a better term– to report back to, his life was further put into the line of fire. Every single day was a gamble, and he never really truly knew whether, at the end of the day, he would still be alive. Just one slip, either by an uncontrollable show of emotion or a sleight of word, and he would be dead.

In exchange for his _valiant_ services for the Order was Lily’s protection. He had to do this. It was his fault that Lily was in much terrible danger, and it was his duty to take her back out of that. He will die if he had to. All he ever wanted was for her to be safe and happy, and if this is what it takes, then so be it. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.

**_BUT INSIDE MY HEART WAS A PICTURE OF A GIRL._ **

Severus had been deprived of sleep much more than usual now. With his constant spying for both the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore, it was impossible to get even a few hours of reprieve. Each one asked information about each other, and he had to be wary which information to deliver and which to withhold. It was a tangled web of deceit and questionable loyalty, and he was caught in the middle of it. He went to both Masters and did his best to perform his duties, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling that resided in his stomach everyday.

Severus had reported back to Dumbledore that he had finally been inducted to the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle. Dumbledore seemed both slightly displeased and awed of his accomplishment. Somehow, he himself could not bring himself to be proud of it. Was that not what he had always wanted? To finally be deemed better and more important than others? To be one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted and talented? Now, all he could think of was how quick he was to doom his childhood friend, albeit unintentional. Oh, how quickly perceptions change.

Dumbledore had confronted him one day, asking him once more of his allegiance. He expected it, of course. Who would believe that one who longed to be a Death Eater for years would suddenly have a change of heart and switch sides? What surprised him was that Dumbledore was ready to listen to him just as quick as he was to turn initially turn him away. He, of all people, understood the need to ascertain trust. He had trusted very few people in his life: his mother, Lily, Lucius at one point, and now Dumbledore. He had not even trusted the Dark Lord, as he knew that man could easily take back his words.

“I do find it hard to believe that you would do all this for one Lily Evans, now Lily Potter.” Severus clenched his jaw. “If my memory is correct, she has cut off all ties with you before, has she not?”

“Yes.” Severus offered no explanation.

“Yet you have risked your life approaching me that day and begged of me her protection.”

“Yes.”

“All this for a lost friend, Severus?”

Then, without warning, Severus pointed his wand at Dumbledore. He was tired of his questions. His head was pounding with all the what-ifs and what-might-have-beens. Must he be reminded over and over again that he had lost Lily Evans— no, Lily Potter, and it was all because of him? That he was desperate enough to put on the line everything he had for a person who could not even bear his presence? He rarely thought on his pathetic feelings, but it hurt. It hurt to think about it. To his merit, Dumbledore did not even flinch or take his wand and just continued to look at him. _Was he a fool?_

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” He whispered. A bright, silvery light shone from the tip of his wand. A few seconds later, a shiny, beautiful, corporal doe stood beside him. It had strutted to his side before vanishing into thin air. He stared at where the doe was last seen before turning to face the older man and looking him in the eye. “Is that enough proof for you?”

“A doe…”

“Lily.” he whispered. Dumbledore took this time to recover from his surprise.

“Forgive me for questioning you once more, Severus, but I had to be sure.”

“Nothing to forgive you for,” he mumbled. “If you have any more doubts, I will willingly subject myself to Veritaserum to prove my word.”

“There is no need, Severus.” The older man placed a hand on his shoulder. “I, after all, believe in second chances.”

“A mistake, I’m sure,” Severus replied, but his voice held no real conviction.

**_SOME CALL LOVE A WORD,  
SOME CALL LOVE A THIEF,_ **

Severus went to Diagon Alley to merely purchase more potions ingredients. His stock was running out, and he needed much to brew for both the Dark Lord and Albus (the older man insisted that they go by first name basis). As he was also funded by both Masters, he need not worry over the expenses. The place was crowded, as it was bustling with parents doing last-minute shopping for supplies they had forgotten to purchase for their children in Hogwarts. Also, even when it was the middle of the school year, there were still children under 11-years-old, and they were all flocking Quality Quidditch Supplies.

He quickly moved away from the hubbub and noise, blending in with the other stoic-looking adults. It was fortunate not one in the crowd recognized him as a Death Eater, lest he be ambushed by everyone, authority or not. Then again, not many would know of him either. He was a mere half-blood in their society, and he had not even gotten a respectable job in the Ministry or anywhere else, really– he doubted being a double agent spy counted as such. There was also the fact he usually only went out at night, when stores were shut close and the streets were empty.

He walked to Slugs & Jiggers Apothecary and purchased the supplies he needed. When he walked out, there he saw a tall man with an unruly head of black hair within the crowd of children outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. He had an expression of awe on his face as he looked on the newest model of a broom. Beside him was a woman with a familiar flame of red hair with eyes as vibrant as the sun, and she smiled at him as if he were her world. Severus felt his breath hitch; it was James Potter and Lily… Potter.

Why in the world were they here? They were supposed to be in hiding! The Dark Lord was out for their blood, yet there they were, James Potter gallivanting around the place and risking his life over a new model of a bloody broom and Lily… Lily smiling at him. He felt his heart ache. How long had he wished to see that smile once more. It only hurt more when it was not directed at him, but towards his schoolboy rival. He wished he could have made Lily as happy as that, that even when their lives were in danger, she could still see the positivity in all this.

How he missed that. He missed the way Lily smiled and just stood beside him whatever happened. She was his best friend— his only friend. Despite his poor and harsh upbringing, she always saw positivity and encouraged him to smile in the face of adversity. There were times when he was convinced. Her joy was contagious, and that was a fact. He would have long given up on life had it not been for her urging him to stay positive through it all.

“Nimbus really makes the best brooms, don’t they, Lily?” He heard Potter’s boisterous voice comment.

“Keep your voice down, you fool!” Lily laughed in response.

“Can’t wait for little Harry to be old enough to get his own broom. Then I can teach him everything I know.”

“You’re a right menace on a broom, and you know it. I’d rather Remus teach him. At least he’d be responsible enough not to teach Harry anything too dangerous.”

“I resent that.”

Harry. The name of their child, he supposed. He shuddered at the fate that awaited the baby. Not even at an age old enough to be deemed a toddler, and his life was already at stake. All because of him, too. He shook his head. It was not the time to be emotional over what is done. He just needed to keep doing his part, and Albus would keep their little family safe. No matter how much he hated the Potter patriarch, he did make Lily happy, and he was sure he would defend her to the last breath. Severus only wished that he were the one able to do that.

He realized that he had been staring at them like an idiot for a few minutes now. Just as he was about to turn back, his eyes were met with the same vibrant, green eyes he had been thinking of earlier. He froze. He could see Potter was still oblivious to his presence as he kept rambling on about the broom, but Lily had seen him. He saw that she tensed a little and that her smile faltered a little. He continued staring at her for a few more seconds before listening to the rational part of him and turned away, ignoring the nagging feeling in his heart.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to take one shaky step away from them, then another. He tried hard to keep his breathing normal. This was unexpected. Not only had he seen Lily unexpectedly during what was supposed to be nothing but an uneventful shopping trip, but she had also seen him. He kept on trudging for what seemed like miles, but was actually only a few steps, towards the dark and shady Knockturn Alley. He was not done with his duty, and some ingredients could only be acquired there, and so he went, knowing that that would be the last time he would ever see her.

He longed to just run towards Lily and tell her that her life was in danger, that he was a fool for not listening to her back then, that he had made a huge mistake and he wanted to make up for all he had done wrong. He wanted to be able to hear her voice once more and see that genuine smile be aimed towards him. He wanted to let her know that she still meant so much to her, and she always will, no matter what. But instead, he walked away, ignoring the pain from every step he took away from her. She would never see the pain in he bore, just as he would never see the tear that escaped Lily’s eye when she thought she had finally lost him forever.

**_BUT SHE'S MY HOME._ **

Severus, at age 21, was offered the job of being the Potions Professor of Hogwarts and also the Head of House of Slytherin. This pleased the Dark Lord immensely but brought much jealousy from his fellow Death Eaters. They had started accusing him of being a traitor by ingratiating himself into the favor of the powerful Headmaster, but he explained all accusations away by saying the Dark Lord needed eyes and ears in the Light, and he would do just that to serve their Master, even if it cost his life. Of course, that was the cover up story. It was fortunate, really, that Slughorn retired and Albus opted to hire him instead.

He was currently the youngest member in Hogwarts staff and probably will be for the next few years. Teaching was not a profession not many aspire for, him included, but it was respectable enough. As he was young, many students had thought that he would be a doormat or that he would be much more lenient compared to the others. Hell, were they wrong. He smirked as he remembered when they had tried to test his patience on the first few days of school. Hogwarts had hit an all-time high in the number of detentions assigned within a month and an all-time low in the house points the hourglasses held.

That year, he had learned that the Potters had gone into hiding in a house under a Fidelius Charm. Albus did not tell him the place, not that he had desired to know, as he was not the secret keeper. That had confused him completely; why would Potter and Lily not make Albus Dumbledore their secret keeper? He was more than capable, no doubt, of keeping secrets. Albus went as far as telling him that they did not inform him who they will assign to be their secret keeper but suspected it would be Sirius Black. Then, he chose not to ponder on the details, as he realized they did not matter, as long as it meant Lily was safe.

On Halloween, students were much chattier and energized as they anticipated the Halloween Feast at dinner. Many of the teachers understood their excitement and gave them leeway, except for him, of course. Classes had also ended much earlier to give the students time to rest and freshen up before heading towards the Great Hall for dinner. Peculiarly, just as he finished his last class in the afternoon, he felt his left arm burn with an intensity he had never felt before. He instantly sent word to Albus through his Patronus, _Accio_ ’d his Death Eater robes, and changed into them before leaving Hogwarts to Apparate to the Dark Lord’s hideout.

Many were already seated by the Dark Lord by the time he arrived, yet he was still not the last. He took a seat somewhere in the end of the table, having no desire to talk to anybody there. His head was still throbbing from teaching so many incompetent students. He could have taken a Pepperup Potion beforehand, but he had simply forgotten due to the urgent summons. After a few more minutes, the table was complete. The Dark Lord, for the first time, did not even waste any time in introduction. He had simply started talking of what was to happen.

“Today, we shall see the downfalls of the so-called threats on my power,” the Dark Lord cackled. “Bellatrix, right now, is in the Longbottoms’ residences having the time of her life, if I may say so myself.” Only then did he realize Bellatrix, indeed, was not in her usual seat beside the Dark Lord. He continued.

“Other than Severus, I had acquired another spy, one whose identity I shall not reveal for his protection. The Potters had been living under a Fidelius Charm, and he was able to surpass my expectations and be the secret keeper.” Severus felt his eyes widen. “Tonight, I will attack the Potters, and you all will wreak havoc in my name as I do so. The world will be ours after tonight.”

Roars of excitement and triumph reverberated from the stone walls of the castle, and Severus cannot bring himself to even fake them. He needed to save Lily! Everything in his body screamed that he run and Apparate right away back to Hogwarts to tell Albus, so the Potters can relocate right away. He tried, really, his life be damned; but he found himself frozen on the spot. He could not move at all, and he continued staring at the raucous cheering of the Death Eaters and the sadistic smile of the Dark Lord. _This could not be happening._ _No, no, no. This is all just a bad dream._

“Severus, my faithful Death Eater. Step forward.” He did, but every step seemed as if each of his leg weighed a thousand tons. “I will give you the opportunity to come with me, to witness the death of your school rival and the direct reward of the Mudblood you so desired.” He noticed the Dark Lord’s smile widen and realized what was implied. What defiled, manic thinking was that? What did the Dark Lord think of him? He forced himself to reply.

“Thank you, my Lord,” he managed, though it sounded more like a croaked whisper. He had to act as soon as possible, but he also needed to think rationally. He needed to stay alive long enough to rescue the Potters. That’s all he needed.

**_AND SHE'S AS MUCH A PART OF THIS BROKEN HEART,_ **  
**_BUT SEE, BROKEN BONES ALWAYS SEEM TO MEND._ **

The Death Eaters started vanishing one by one, obviously excited in the aspect of being able to cause destruction once more. The Dark Lord told him where to Apparate (Godric’s Hollow) and went ahead. Severus soon followed after resting his overly beating heart. When he had arrived, the Dark Lord looked him in the eyes. It was nothing like those warm, green eyes of Lily, which he had seen only a few months before. These were a pair of cold eyes, full of hatred and bitterness, unable to render and conceive of anything even related to love.

“Severus, if that Mudblood chooses to get in my way of my goal, I will not hesitate to kill her,” he said, his voice too nonchalant for his liking.

“I— I understand, my Lord.”

Just as the Dark Lord started trudging towards the house where the Potters had apparently been living for months, he quickly casted another Patronus to send word to Albus right away. He needed them to arrive as soon as possible. The doe quickly vanished in the dark night, off to deliver the most distressing news. Ten seconds had passed. _Did they not realize the urgency of the situation?_ Twenty seconds. _Damn it! Where were they?_ Thirty.

He heard something explode, and he assumed that it was the door of the house. That was not good. He hoped that Potter had realized who had entered their home and done something quickly. Severus knew, despite their very personal differences, that Potter was an outstanding duelist. If there were a best time to exhibit those skills, now would be a good time. He crept closer to the house. What the hell was happening? Everything fell into his hands too fast, and he could not do anything to reverse it.

A flash of green light escaped from one of the windows upstairs. _Shit! Where was the Order? Why was no one arriving yet?_ The next thing he knew, he was running towards the house, too. Fuck it all, he’ll just die fighting the Dark Lord then. He entered the house and found the whole floor ransacked. All this destruction in a mere matter of minutes. He crept as quietly and stealthily as possible, not wanting to give away his presence. He would _kill_ the Dark Lord. He no longer cared for the repercussions. Azkaban be damned. He was just about to climb up the stairs when he heard it: the sound that would forever haunt him, Lily’s screams.

“Not Harry! I’ll do anything! Please— ”

“Step aside, silly girl!”

“No! Harry!”

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ” Another scream. Lily’s scream.

“NO!” He heard someone shout and realized that was himself. He was going to _kill_ Voldemort. Nothing stopped him now. He saw red and quickly stormed up the staircase. He was met by James Potter lying laying on the cold floor, his eyes still open. His wand was only a few centimeters away from his hand, indicating he had put up a good fight.

He finally found the nursery where the baby –Harry– was kept in. When he entered, he immediately collapsed upon seeing Lily’s lifeless body. He realized that the Dark Lord was nowhere to be found, but he didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to. For the first time in many years, he allowed himself to cry and sob over the loss of the only friend he had. Lily was gone, forever. She was dead. He found himself trying to muster enough strength to hold Lily one last time, to hug her as tightly as he can.

There was nothing he can do anymore. Lily was gone. _Lily was gone._ His sobs matched with those of a high-pitched crying, and he turned to realize the baby was awake, and he had a jagged scar upon his forehead, still bleeding. He wondered if the baby would ever remember this day or would understand what happened tonight, but he doubted it and did not wish it. A quick _Episkey_ and the cut on the baby’s forehead stopped bleeding. He turned to face Lily one more time and closed her eyes as he continued to sob over her. _Lily was gone. She will never come back._

He heard a silent creak outside the room, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if it were the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord himself. There was no point of living anymore anyway. For the last year, he had only continued living on for the protection of Lily. It was his only purpose in life, and it was snatched away from him in just seconds. His body wracked with the uncontrollable cries and guilt he harbored, and he felt ashamed. _He was stupid, so stupid!_ A gentle hand touched him on the shoulder. He looked up to see the gloomy face of Albus Dumbledore.

“Severus.”

“Albus, please. Let me be,” he whispered. Talking took too much effort for him.

“Severus, I know this is difficult, but you cannot be seen here. Your life is in danger.”

“I don’t care if my life is in danger!” He shouted back.

“Please, Severus. The rest of the Order and the Ministry will be arriving soon. You cannot be seen here. I will take care of everything, rest assured. Please Apparate back to Hogwarts. I wish to talk to you.” He heard the pleading tone in Albus’s voice and realized he was being selfish. He wasn’t the only one affected by this.

With a small nod, he gave Lily one last hug before handing her gently to Albus. He looked back and saw Harry Potter no longer was crying but staring at him with the most familiar pair of eyes. Lily’s eyes were staring into his soul, yet it was not Lily. He turned around once more and continued walking, his chest feeling extremely heavy. He passed James Potter’s lifeless body once again, and he closed the man’s eyes in respect before continuing to walk out of the house and Apparating, the hurt and the sting of his loss still not leaving him, and he doubted it ever will.

**_I’LL TASTE THE DEVIL'S TEARS,_ **  
**_DRINK FROM HIS SOUL,_ **

He sat in the Headmaster’s office, waiting for Albus to come back. It had been an hour or so since he had left Godric’s Hollow. _Since he had last seen Lily_. He found himself crying once more, unable to keep his emotions to himself. It had all happened too fast. Everything around him shattered in a matter of hours. Fawkes, Albus’s phoenix familiar, trilled a soulful, dreary tune that made his heart feel much heavier than when he had arrived. He lost track of how long he had waited, but the fireplace finally burst with green flames, and out walked Albus Dumbledore, looking older than he had ever been.

Severus could not even bring himself to look at the man.

“Severus.”

“It’s all my fault, Albus! They died because of me! Lily died because of me!” He shouted before collapsing on the floor again.

“It was not— ”

“Don’t try to placate me with encouraging words, Headmaster!” He looked up. “Where was the Order? Or anyone? Why didn’t anyone come right away?” He asked angrily.

“It is Halloween. The staff cannot merely vanish in a moment and leave the school unattended and unprotected. The others had to deal with their own damages as the Death Eaters ransacked almost the whole city and attacked their families. We came as fast as we could,” the Headmaster explained sadly.

“You said you would keep her safe!”

“Lily and James put their faith on the wrong person, Severus. Rather like you.”

“It’s all my fault…” he repeated.

“Severus, stop.”

“Kill me, Albus,” he begged. “Please. Do me the favor of ending me. I cannot bear to live with this— this guilt. I cannot… ”

“You do not understand— ”

“Yes, I do! I killed them! God, I led them to their deaths! Please, Albus. I wish I were dead. Please grant me this.”

“Harry survives.” Severus looked up at him. “Lily Evans-Potter died protecting Harry.”

“Must you remind me? How cruel can you be? You would not grant me the escape of death, and you continue to torment me with the image of Lily’s!” He cried.

“Help me protect Harry, Severus.”

“Protect? Protect him from what? The sniffles?” He retorted. “He doesn’t need protection! The Dark Lord is gone!”

“The Dark Lord will return, and when he does, the boy will be in terrible danger,” Albus replied with complete certainty. “He has her eyes.” Severus was reminded of the bright, green eyes that stared at him before he left. “If you truly loved her…”

Severus took a deep breath.

“No one… can know.”

“I shall never reveal the best of you, Severus.”

**_BUT I'LL NEVER GIVE UP YOU._ **

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoyed this! i've had this piece saved for over a year but i only decided to post this here now hehe


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